My Masterpiece
by Eskarina
Summary: A series of very short drabbles that link together, Linda decides to do something nice for Wammy's boys. Very minor L/Mello, and Matt/Mello.
1. Mello and Beauty

I don't own death note, And this is just a very short drabble from a little artist's POV. R&R plz.

He's the hardest to draw, because he refuses to stay still for any great length of time

He's the hardest to draw, because he refuses to stay still for any great length of time. Always complaining and muttering, saying he ought to be off studying or plotting, rather than indulging a silly girl.

I don't care. He's definitely the one I get the best drawings of, because he's all smooth edges, no points. Except on his chocolate bar.

"Hurry up!"

He always moans at me for taking so long, and demands to know why I want to draw him anyway. Usually it's just for practise. Today it's because I have a plan.

Basic shape of his body done, now to start with the details… try not to miss anything, and make sure to get his whole pose in the frame…

I don't think he really hates having to pose for me. Not because he likes me, no, Mello doesn't really like anybody, except for L and Matt, of course.

But one thing I know he does like is being admired, and the centre of attention. Matt's right, he's a complete drama queen. When I'm drawing him, to his mind he's the centre of the world.

I can see why people do adore him, though personally I find him difficult. He's gorgeous, somewhere between Adonis and Aphrodite, walking a line between beautiful and handsome.

He hates it when people refer to him as a girl, but honestly, I always use a basic female muscle tone when I draw him. He's just not that masculine looking.

No, he's feminine, in looks and most of his actions. A lot of people here who didn't know him that well thought he was a girl until his voice finally broke.

Hehe, of course, because it's Mello, that had to happen when he was singing in the church choir, singing a solo. And it _had_ to happen at Easter, when everyone at Wammy's has to go along to the church.

And it _had_ to happen when L was back home for a change.

I shouldn't laugh. Mello ran off into the back when it happened. Matt told me later that he cried with humiliation most of the afternoon.

Apparently he only stopped when L gave him a lollipop and told him that up until the unfortunate voice breaking, he sounded very sweet.

I bet he carried that lollipop around with him for weeks.

It's a little bit weird, Mello's adoration of L. It's almost at stalker levels.

I heard a rumour that he breaks into L's bedroom when he's away from home, sleeps wrapped in the blankets that still smell of the detective everyone here loves.

I guess it comes from not having a real family, he's latched on to L as a kind of father/older brother figure. And it doesn't help that in this orphanage, the greatest honour is to be named as a possible successor to L.

So in Mello's head, L's become almost like a god. The ultimate prize, so to speak.

And who wouldn't want to be the centre of such a god's world?

"Are you done yet? I can think of hundreds of other things I'd rather be doing than sitting here."  
Look up at him, then at my sketchpad, hold up my pencil and check I've got the details of his face in line.

"Just your eyes, then I'll be done." I reply, and start to sketch them out.

Eyes are always the hardest part. If you get them wrong it throws off the whole picture, get them right and it looks like the picture is alive.

Mello's eyes are navy blue. Almost black, but not quite. Remember that for when I get on to painting.

"Done yet?"

I nod, "Thank you Mello, it was very kind of you to pose for me." I stand up and bob a curtsey, because I always have with the genius' who rule this house.

He nods, I think he's pleased at the respectful show. "Why'd you want it anyway?"

I smile sweetly. "It's a surprise." I reply, then hurry off before he can probe for more information.


	2. Near and Logic

Near is easy to find.

He's always on the floor of the common room, doing a jigsaw, or in his room, which I've never been allowed to see.

I'm not sure if that's down to him or bad luck. The girls dormitories are on the other side of the house, so midnight visits are impossible, and I've never asked to go in during the day.

"Near, would you mind if I drew you?"

He doesn't look up. I wish he would.

"If you want to." He mutters.

I swallow hard. Near always makes it hard to speak. "Would you mind… sitting up properly… and looking at me? I want to draw your entire face."

He pauses for a moment, but sighs and nods, lifting his head, one hand going to fiddle with a lock of snowy hair.

"Is this all right?"

I nod and start sketching furiously. I don't want him to get too bored and move. He looks so sweet just as he is now. I might have to get creative with his smile though. I've never seen a smile grace his pale face.

Not even when L's at home.

Not even during the days when Near was very, very little, and L would pick him up and happily carry him around all day. And Mello would whine and beg to be carried too, but of course; he was getting too old.

I wonder if Near even likes L?

No, that's silly, of course he likes L. That much is obvious from the presents.

L always brings his heirs something back from where-ever he goes. Matt always gets a new video game of some kind, Mello always gets a sweet treat or some new fancy item of jewellery, and Near always gets a new puzzle.

Sometimes it's a more complicated version of a rubix cube, sometimes a jigsaw, or a construction kit of something, but it's always a puzzle.

And Near always drops whatever else he might be working on, and sets his whole mind to solving it.

I can remember being told about the day before L left for University, Near was only a toddler, and he wobbled unsteadily over to L and handed him the first rubix cube he'd ever solved.

Someone told me that L kept it in his room, on his bedside table.

Near's weird to draw, he sits in almost a complete lump, like clay. It makes it hard to work out how his limbs go, especially since he wears all white and shadows seem to avoid him altogether.

Still, it's working this time, because I'm determined.

"What colour are your eyes, Near?"

He pauses in his hair-twiddling. "Maroon."

"Sorry?" My pencil halts on the paper.

He tilts his head slightly. "I have albinism, my eyes are dark pink, which is rare even among people with the same condition. That is why I have very poor vision."

I blush and nod. I should have known that.

"Don't be ashamed." He speaks softly. "Not everyone here has to be a genius in the same way."

I blush harder. I hate when people point out how dumb I am compared to the other kids here. I'm actually failing a couple of my science classes, and that's unheard of at Wammy's.

Concentrate. Maroon eyes, so dark that they too look almost black.

I wonder if L's noticed his two heirs have very similar features?

Probably, L notices everything.

"Done."

Near nods and immediately goes back to his puzzle. It's one of the ones L's brought him. It's just a picture of a whole field of poppies. It's hard to tell which piece goes where. Probably why he chose it for Near.


	3. Matt and Sweetness

Forgive the shortness of this chapter, Matt's difficult for me to characterise.

"Can ya give me great big anime eyes?"

I sigh. Matt is the hardest person to draw in the whole of Wammy's house. He won't be quiet, and he keeps moving unless he has a game to focus on.

"No, Matt. I just want a picture of you normally." I reply. "Can you please stay still?"

"I am still."

I groan and keep sketching frantically, just the vaguest lines I can manage, I'll have to put in the details later from memory. But that doesn't matter, I just need to get the basics, and his facial features.

Matt's a sweetheart. Not that I have a crush on him or anything, but he is. No-one has anything bad to say about Matt, he's just a sweet computer geek who is more than happy with his position as number 3.

It's one of the few things he doesn't compete at, his position as L's heir. Everything else is like a contest to him, his games, his computers, playing outside, but when it comes to the test scores that determine L's heirs, he is consistently number 3 and doesn't seem to mind at all.

"Don't you ever want to be number one?" I ask suddenly. Maybe that will keep him still.

He blinks behind his goggles, he knows what I'm referring to, everyone here would. "Not really." He sighs and thinks. "Who would?"  
Pause, "Huh?"

"Being L isn't a fun life." He explains, finally holding still. "always travelling, only getting to come home every now and then… no family, because they'd be in danger, Wammy behind you all the time… having to be right all the time."

I stop again, "L's not always right."

Matt nods, "Yeah, but you've not seen how angry he gets with himself when he's wrong." He smirks a little, "Dude sulks like Mello with no chocolate. Gets really quiet and irritable and disappears off to the gym for hours. Does that weird kick-boxing thing of his."

"Oh."

"Anyway, I don't want that. I kinda think Mello and Near are idiots for wanting to be L." he sighs, and pulls his goggles down so they rest around his neck, "Ya never really think about it, but L must be the loneliest person in the world."

I take my chance and sketch his eyes. I like Matt's eyes, they's like emeralds. He looks like a cartoon with his bright red hair and weird outfit, but his eyes are real. In his eyes, you can see the quiet sadness he hides behind a smile.

"You do like L though." I point out.

He smiles, because he has to. "Yeah, he's an alright guy. A little clingy with us three, but I guess we're the nearest thing to family he's ever gonna have. An' I have to like him, cuz Mello does. Doesn't mean I want to be like him."

Poor Matt.

Everyone else in the orphanage knows how much he adores Mello, following him around like a faithful puppy. It's only Mello that's entirely unaware.

It bet it kills him inside to see Mello hugging L, sitting beside him, fighting to be the person who is closest to him.

If I were Matt, I would have punched L a long time ago.

But that would make Mello unhappy. And Matt can't let that happen.

So he bites his tongue and plays his games.

And secretly, he wishes he were L.


	4. L and Genius

This is the part I've been dreading. But I have to do it soon because who knows when I'll have a better chance?

Clutching my sketchpad and pencils, I tap at the door.

Everyone here's bedroom has their name on it. On a piece of card stuck to the door. Except for this one.

This one has the name carved into the wood, because the owner of it is never going to leave Wammy's house, except for intermittent trips abroad. Speaking to him is very intimidating, even for someone who isn't in the running to take over his job.

It's the biggest room here, I know that much. Other than that it's a mystery. I've never been daring enough before to try this.

Wammy opens the door. "Good evening, did you want something?"

I swallow hard. "C-can I please speak to L?"

Wammy looks surprised. Only Mello and Near ever want to come see L, I've never spoken to him before. Only seen him a few times.

"Someone to see me?" a voice asks from inside.

Then the door opens fully, someone else has taken the doorknob from Wammy.

It's him.

He tilts his head at me, then seems to recognise me. "Hello Linda."

He knows my name?

"Are you going to stand there gawping or say something?" he asks.

"Can I please draw you?" I blurt out all at once, holding out my sketchpad and pencils as if they're a shield.

Wammy chuckles.

L tilts his head the other way, then nods, "If you are quiet and do not disturb my work."

I nod hurriedly and follow him inside.

His room is so neat and tidy… but then again, all grown-up's rooms are. Then again, his shelves don't look like an adult filled them. Children's storybooks, and boxes of puzzles and games fill them. And a row of trophies from tennis tournaments. And some of the walls even have posters on them, teenager posters. Mostly of bands, one of them has a picture of a blonde girl on it, and some writing I can't read.

He hops into a large, comfy-looking armchair, and stares down at a laptop on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

I glance around for another seat, find none, and take a place on the floor.

I start sketching.

I spend longer on him than the others, because I want to get him exactly right, I don't get to see him enough to fill in the blanks with memories, so it has to all be done right first time.

"You look very serious, Linda." His voice is a bit robotic.

I blush and nod, "It's important I get this right."

He turns his head a little to look at me. He's chewing the nail on his thumb. I sketch that in.

"Why?"

I shake my head, "Secret." Then, "L, what makes someone a genius?"

He blinks at me, probably surprised I'm asking. After all, everyone at Wammy's is supposed to know that.

He taps his bottom lip. "Well, generally speaking great intelligence is called genius. However…"

Why am I even in Wammy's? I'm not that bright, maths gives me a headache and last week I almost blew the science room up.

"Genius does not necessarily equate to being able to solve mathmatical equations or prove scientific theorems." He pauses. "I prefer to think of it as meaning someone who excels at something, who can do things only a handful of other people can do."

How can he read my mind like that?

"Linda is having doubts about her belonging here?"

I don't answer, try to keep drawing.

I hear movement, and the next thing I know he's squatting beside me on the floor and staring intently at my sketch. I squeal and flail, he surprised me, and I don't like people looking at my work before it's done anyway.

"No, don't-!" I squeak. He takes the sketchbook anyway, holding it delicately.

He tilts his head. "Linda, did you know that Michelangelo himself showed little prowess in any subject beyond the arts?"

I blush and say nothing.

He hands the pad back to me, and pats my head, making my pigtails shake. "Never let anyone tell you you're not a genius, Linda. You have every right to be here."

His eyes are black. Pure black, like coal or onyx or…

Empty space.

Are you full of empty space, L?


	5. Work of Art

_Just a short one to finish off, please tell me what you think _

This is going to be difficult, I know. I've never tried anything like this before.

Really I should have got them all to pose together, but that would have given the game away.

At the moment they all think I'm just practising, even if they confer, I'm not sure they'll work out what I'm planning.

Each smooth line, each brush of graphite to produce shadows… it's going to take all week, every moment of my spare time.

But it comes together. Slowly and surely it begins to come together until the lines are all ready.

Maybe I ought to leave it, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever drawn, I don't want to ruin it by messing up the paint.

But I have to go all the way with this. I told myself when I decided to start this that this would be my masterpiece. No turning back or loosing my nerve.

So I dip my brush into the colours, and bring it slowly to the canvas.

I stay awake all night. Once I've started bringing it to life with colours I can't stop. It's like Near with a puzzle, Matt with his games, Mello with his chocolate. It's an addiction and I need to keep feeding it, no matter how high the cost goes.

I keep nodding off in my classes the next day, but I don't care. Afterwards I run back to my room and lock myself in there to keep working in peace.

I don't even notice the time passing until the final brushstroke. Then I look up and see it is dark outside. And I can smell dinner being served.

And there's a knock on my door.

"Linda, Roger said I have to check on you, are you all right?"

That's Matt. Sweet Matt, always doing what he's told.

I run and answer the door, peeking out through the tiny gap I allow. "I'm fine Matt, but can you do me a favour?"

He blinks and nods, "What?"

"Get Mello, Near, and L and all four of you come here."

He does as he's told, while I clean up. Kicking the sheets to stop paint staining the floor under my bed, moving the easel so it'll be the first thing they see, filing away my preliminary sketches.

Just in time for the second knock.

I dash over and open it. They're all four there. Mello looks like he's entirely unhappy about Near being there as well. Or maybe it's because Near's standing an inch closer to L than he is.

I smile, "Come in… I made something for you."

Open the door fully and let them see it.

I look at it too, trying to imagine seeing it for the first time.

It's beautiful. A painting of four boys, the oldest really a man in his twenties, sitting oddly in the middle, either arm around somone. Between his knees sits the youngest, a little boy with albinism and a brilliant mind. On his right, a blonde boy who is so beautiful he could be a girl, and on his left, a boy who is more cartoon than human, a gameboy in one hand.

All of them looking alive, and staring out of the painting, as though they had been sitting together and someone called for a photo.

I did have to get creative with one thing.

Their smiles.

All four of them are smiling.

I gulp and wait for someone to say something.

"Wow!! Look how cool I look!" Matt breaks the silence. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"You? Pft, look at me! I'm _gorgeous!_" Mello, trying to draw attention to himself. Posing a little, trying to recreate the expression. Smiling suggestively.

"…Do I really look that cute?" Near, sounding a bit embarrassed. But he is smiling, shyly.

I know I must look like an idiot, smiling the way I am. I'm just so glad they like it.

"It must have taken forever!!"  
"How did you get those _colours?_"

"The detail is amazing."

I bathe in their compliments. Then realise someone has yet to give their opinion. I look up at him.

He doesn't say a word, only smiles back at me, and he looks like a work of art.


	6. Linda and Happiness

_lol, I was going to finish at the last chapter, but what can I say? I'm a sucker for the Wammy boys being cute together. R&R please._

...

Two days later, they corner me.

I gave the painting to L, said he ought to be the one to look after it. The other boys agreed with this.

I'm sitting in my corner of the common room, practising landscapes by doodling what I can see through the window. I ought to ask Wammy if I may borrow a camera and take a photo for reference, it's hard drawing things as they happen in front of you.

"Linda!"

I look up. It's Near, and for once in his life, he looks something other than bored. He actually looks a bit nervous, twisting his hair with one hand, the other clutching a teddy bear.

"What?" I question.

He lowers his hand from his hair, "Can you come with me, please? It's urgent!"

I nod, dropping my paper and pencils, if Near thinks something is urgent, that means to normal people it's a catastrophe.

I follow him as he scurries down the halls of the house, and I realise we're heading for L's room.

"Is something wrong with L?" I squeak.

Near doesn't answer, just keeps moving.

He opens the door of L's room; I've never known it to be open like that before, something must be wrong.

I skid when we enter. L's changed it since my last visit in here.

There's that same armchair, but now it's in the middle of the room, and there's four stools set neatly in front of it in a rough semi-circle.

"What's going on...?" I manage to get out, before the door closes behind me. I spin around and see L there, calmly locking it.

Matt appears, walking out of one of the other rooms, carrying a handful of pencils.

"I sharpened them all like you asked." The gamer says cheerfully, not even raising an eyebrow at my presence.

L nods, "Thank you Matt." Then he turns his coal eyes on me. "Linda, it occurred to myself, Mello, Matt and Near that the painting you created deserves reward."

I blush. "No, really, I enjoyed making it, you don't have to-"

He smiles a little, "Well then consider this another favour, so someone else can enjoy creating something."

I don't understand at all.

Mello appears from some darkened corner with a pile of paper, "This is all I can carry, so it'd better be enough!" he snaps, setting the pile down in the middle of the stools, taking a dozen sheets for himself and planting himself firmly in one of the stools.

After a moment, he turns slightly to look at me and commands, "Well hurry up then!"

L frowns a little at him, then pats my head, my pigtails bob in response. "Do you mind being a model for an hour or two?"

I think my cheeks are going to burn off with the blush. "You four are going to draw _me_?"

Near nods, "A mind cannot function using only logic. Creativity is needed also. So we're going to be creative for an afternoon."

I want to say something like 'no'. But there's no arguing with these four, when they work together they're almost frightening, because they always know all the answers.

So I end up sitting in L's armchair, staring at the four genius' of Wammy's house, all of them either glancing up at me, or staring intently at their drawings.

The only sound is the skittering of graphite on paper.

I swallow and try to relax. It's one thing to be the artist, a whole other to the model. I'm so self-conscious, I keep wondering what they're thinking while they stare at me.

"Linda, please stop fidgeting like that. If you are uncomfortable, move into another position." L advises quietly.

I blush, is it that obvious?

"Do you mind?" I squeak.

L shrugs, "We can start new drawings, and they will doubtless look better if you are not worrying yourself."

I nod and move, drawing my legs up into the armchair too, tucking my knees under me and leaning a little more sideways and back into the cushions of the chair.

"That's better." Near mumbles, looking from the paper back up at me.

There's more silence.

It is more comfortable like this. Though I'm still embarrassed, after all, I am sitting in _L_'s chair. If I lean my head just slightly into the place where his head rests when he sits here, I can smell strawberries, his shampoo maybe?

They look weird, drawing me.

Matt's got his goggles on the top of his head, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth while he concentrates, barely ever looking up at me, pencil gently scratching away at the paper in front of him.

Mello's pencil movements look long and smooth, he glances back up at me after every stroke, occasionally holding up his pencil to judge the position of shadows, or folds, or features, like he's seen me do.

Near's disconcerting. He's barely looking at the paper. Making small, quick twitches with the pencil, eyes fixed on me the entire time, occasionally muttering something to himself and erasing things.

I like how L looks though. He's tied a strip of fabric around his head to keep his long black hair from his eyes. He looks up, but rarely, and seems to keep nodding to himself as he sketches.

The silence is suddenly broken again.

"Linda, crack a smile or something, will ya?" Matt jokes.

Mello looks up, smirking that wicked one he gets sometimes, "Yeah, most girls would die to have three hot guys staring at them."

I blush hard. He didn't include Near in that. He's so mean. But he does have a point, all the girls in Wammy's have a crush on one or more of these four. I used to have one on Near, myself. Now it's a case of just admiring them though, four boys, so different and yet the same, and each a pleasure to draw in their own way.

L sighs a bit, "Mello, I wish you would not talk like that, It makes you sound like the lead in a low-budget adult film."

Mello sticks his tongue out.

L ignores him, "Matt does have a point, Linda. Please smile."

I do as I'm told.

"No, I said 'smile'."

I blink. "I am smiling."

Near shakes his head, "No, you're pretending to be happy. Real smile, please."

I bite my lip, and try to think of something that makes me really, really happy.

Of course I go to painting. I love the smell of canvas and oils, or watercolours. I love the way things start to come together on the canvas right before my eyes.

A warm tingle runs through me.

"That's better." Near comments.

The scribbling noises continue, and I daydream. I wonder if the Mona Lisa felt this silly when Da Vinci painted her?

Not that I'm comparing myself to her.

"Finished." Matt chirps suddenly. "Whatcha think?"

He turns his sketchpad around and I almost giggle.

Matt never did get the hang of real-life drawings, and no wonder he wasn't looking at me very much. He's drawn me as a cartoon, a slightly silly looking girl from a manga, with a big toothy grin and that odd smiley face that those video game characters he adores all seem to have.

He grins, "I know, it's not a proper drawin, but it's still pretty good, right?"

I nod. "It's great Matt. You should hack one of your games and put that in it."

He winks, "I'll design a whole game around the character if you want, babe."

I blush, and Mello snorts at that. The blonde rolls his eyes and turns his own pad around to face me, "How's that?"

Mello isn't very good at anatomy. His drawing is nice, but there's too many round edges, I don't look like a real person, too smooth and blurred around the sides.

"It's kinda similar to Monet." I comment, trying to think of a way to say he needs to remember humans have bones.

He grins, "Thanks!"

Oh well, he's happy.

Near sighs, "I think I'm finished too."

His is the polar opposite to Mello. There's so many angles and sharp points that the girl in his drawing looks more robot than human. Of course, he was probably working on the basic rules of anatomy and bone structure, most likely he entirely forgot that people are very pliable.

I manage a few compliments, because it's still very flattering that he wanted to draw me at all.

Now it's just him. The hardest person to please in the world.

He's still sketching, frowning a little as he tries to focus, looking utterly frustrated. After a few more minutes he sighs and says, "I give up."

I climb down from the chair, hurrying to see what he's produced.

It must be hard to be him. He's his own biggest critic, everyone else thinks he's wonderful, but he never seems satisfied. He has impeccably high standards, and forces himself to meet them or be a total failure.

Of course, he'd be the one who got it right.

I almost think it's a photograph, but for the lack of colour. And the fact that in that drawing, I'm wearing a long white dress, flowers in my hair.

And I'm sitting, not in an armchair, but in a little rowboat on a stream, surrounded by a fairytale landscape with lions and unicorns dotted throughout.

"Oh…" I squeak.

He frowns, "I know, I thought it might be nice, but it looks strange."

I shake my head frantically; "It's beautiful… can I have it, please?"

He hands it over. I can see why he's annoyed with himself, he's focused a bit too much on the minute details, not realising that less can be more, as it is, the background looks too busy.

But it's the greatest compliment anyone has ever paid me.

"It's dinnertime." Matt comments suddenly. "Go on Linda, we'll catch up."

I nod, clutching the drawing to my chest. Then, on a whim, scurry around Matt, Mello and Near, picking up theirs too.

As I pick each one up, I quickly hug each of them. Matt laughs nervously and pats my back, Mello makes a face of annoyance and mutters something, Near blushes and stands very still.

L doesn't seem to notice this at all. He's busily moving his chair back to it's proper place. He notices I'm ready to leave and goes to unlock the door, holding it open for me.

"L." I say calmly.

He looks down.

I beckon him closer, like I want to whisper something to him.

He blinks curiously and obliges.

And I peck his cheek and run off, giggling when I hear Matt start laughing, and Mello start snarling in jealousy, angry that he didn't think of that first.

I pin them on my walls, and every day when I see them they remind me of things.

Don't take things too seriously, life is fun, so live it well... Matt's cartoon...

Remember the backbone of yourself, and don't let someone bend you to their will... Near's unpliable doodle...

Beautiful things make their surrounding's the same, never stop trying to see the beauty in everything... Mello's lines blurred byond comprehension...

Only a handful of people can do what you do. Sometimes the hardest person to please is yourself.

I don't think I need to tell you whose that is.


End file.
